Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: J <J@nicholsn.demon.co.uk>
Subject: TG: Even Trade Swap [1/4]
Date: Wed, 23 Aug 1995 17:18:01 GMT

			 The Even Trade Swap
				  by
			Miss Karen-Anne Brown
			       Part One

	When I drove up to the house, I saw the beautiful young girl
who was leaning against the front pillar at the top of the steps. I
took a minute to sit in the car and admire her image.

	She had long curly black hair that massed almost
uncontrollably about her head. Her dainty feet were in high heeled
shoes, black, with three inch heels. Her pants were kind of baggy, in
a khaki color and she wore a matching blouse. I admired the shape of
her body. It was easy to tell that she was sexy. I loved the way the
pants fit so tightly around her crotch area, but seemed very baggy in
all other areas.

	I could see the small half-inch belt with a gold butterfly
buckle shining at her small waist. Her blouse was the same color as
her pants and was obviously part of a two piece suit. Around her neck
was a delicate white lace collar. She was also wearing a necklace.

	She eyed me. She knew who I was, and why I was there. Her red
lips parted with the warmest welcome I'd ever had. My fears left me.
She smiled and her eyes twinkled. She moved one of her hands from
behind her back, and waved to me. I was pleased to see that she wore
dainty bracelets. She was a picture of femininity. I could fall in
love with her very easily, I knew, if I wasn't already. She was
different from any girl I had ever known, and it excited me.

	She stood straight as I walked up the steps.

	"Karen-Anne. How are you today?"

	"Hi... Dougie," she drawled out, with a cute pout, teasing me.

	"Douglas. Douglas, please. Dougie seems so... so... sissy, to
me."

	"Well," she smiled, "If the shoe fits... " She giggled.

	"Yeah... well... I can't argue that one with you, considering
why I am here." I blushed furiously, to her enormous pleasure.

	"No, I guess you can't, can you." She smiled back at me. There
was no condemnation in her voice, just a statement of facts. I was
glad of that. When she'd approached me at the library last weekend,
and we'd spent the day together, she had suggested a week of an even
trade swap, as part of a joint research paper for our psychology
class. She thought it was an interesting idea. I was kind of intrigued
by the idea. The swap would be each other's lives, for a week. We were
doing a section on interviewing and the topic was of trying to
identify with the person that you were talking to. He had specifically
arranged for girls and guys to be interviewing each other, and the
subject was: what circumstances, superficially of course, had brought
us to the place where we the think way we do about ourselves at the
present time. I had admitted to her, in our first interview, that I
had always been intrigued with how girls felt about wearing makeup all
day. I guess that thought stuck with her or something.

	The professor had told her, without my knowledge, that he'd
use it as our term paper for his class. We decided then to do it for
this week, our easter break, just before finals. Our paper was due two
weeks later and would count towards our credit for the course.

	It was now Saturday morning, at 8:30 am.

	I noticed her shapely rounded bum as she turned to lead me
into the house. I was already hard. I was thinking that her pants
looked so very, very attractive, and, sexy. I wondered if they would
look the same in an hour or so from now, when I would be wearing them.
I hoped so.

	We moved up the stairs. I admired the fluidity of her
movements.

	"Dougie... ", I blushed. "You can use this bathroom. When you
are done, go through that door. I will see you in about... oh, an
hour? You can leave your clothes right here, okay?"

	"That sounds all right."

	"Well," she smiled brilliantly, "I hope that you like this
experiment, as much as I will. I guess that, as of this moment, I
should be calling you Karen-Anne, shouldn't I?" Her mischievous smile
made my heart melt towards her. I would do anything for this girl.

	"You will enjoy it, Karen... uhhhh... Douglas?"

	"Oh... I am looking forward to it. Aren't you?"

	I smiled and blushed sheepishly. "I am afraid that I will like
it uh... too much. I have not been able to think about anything else
but the fact that I am going to wear your sexy clothes. I have had a
hard-on for a week now."

	"Well, if they make you feel as pretty as they make me feel,
then our experiment will have worked. So, you have been hard all week?
You poor darling."

	Teasingly, she reached out and lightly caressed the front of
my pants. "You are going to love the feel of silky panties on this
thing. I just adore wearing panties, they are so feminine."

	"I am afraid that I just might too."

	"Don't worry about that... Dougie... Karen-Anne... maybe you
will... "

	I could not stop from blushing even deeper. I hardly knew this
girl, and already, she seemed to communicate with me on a level that I
had had never had with anyone before. She seemed to know my deepest
secrets, and, she seemed to get pleasure from them.

	"Now, you should take a shower first."

	"Okay."

	"Now, what I want you to do is to spray this stuff all over
you. It does not smell good, but the smell will go away with the
shower. You have to wait for twenty minutes before you shower, then
scrub with a washcloth, Okay? Oh, and then soak for a bit in the tub.
Pour this stuff into the water, and soak for at least twenty minutes,
okay?"

	"Spray this stuff on, wait fifteen, then scrub with
washcloth."

	"You learn fast... Dougie, all over now." Then, with a pert
turn, she left.

	I stripped off my clothing, and followed her instructions.
Three quarters of an hour later, naked and hairless, I dried myself,
and went through the door into the new bedroom.

	It was a very girlish room in pale blues, pinks and whites. On
the bed, lying in a neat pile were the clothes that Karen-Anne had
been wearing earlier. There was an envelope, addressed to Miss Karen-
Anne lying on top of them.

	I picked it up and opened it.

	Dear Karen-Anne:

	You are not quite the right shapes, though you
	are the right size.

	You will need a bit of help. Some of this, you
	will not be familiar with. The first thing to
	put on is the waist nipper. It laces in the
	front and should be laced as tightly as you can
	possibly lace it. Do not worry about the
	discomfort, as you will get used to it very
	easily.

	For these breasts, use this bottle of glue,
	liberally. Hold them in place without moving
	them for fifteen minutes, after which they will
	be usable for you.

	When you are dressed, call me and I will come
	and help you with your makeup.

	Enjoy this week's experiment, Karen-Anne. I
	will.

	Sincerely, your boyfriend and classmate;

					Douglas

	I laced that waist nipper on, as tightly as I could. I sat
holding the false breasts to my hairless chest, but, when the fifteen
minutes was up, realized that they were on permanently, unless she had
something to remove them with, for me. The weight pulled just as
though I had real breasts, and I was almost painfully aware of my new
attributes. I would, I realized, be glad to get my bra on, to lend
some support and relieve the pressure created. But, from a few feet
away, they looked very real in the mirror.

	Not too concerned, because I trusted her/him, I went back to
the pile of clothes on the bed. I was seventeen years old. It had been
two years since I'd last worn girl's clothing. My mom used to punish
me by making me wear Sally's dresses all the time. The only problem
was that, when I got into the silky clothing, which felt so very much
nicer than my own clothing, that Mom treated me nicer than she did
when I was a boy, So, punishment was usually more of a reward to me.
I really liked it when she made me start to wear a bra also. I soon
realized that Sally and Mom liked me better when I was a girl. That
made some confusing feelings develop in me, because, I wanted to be a
boy, I just also liked being a girl.

	With the skill that a boy does not normally have, I picked up
the lacy red satin cupped brassiere, slid the thin straps up my arms,
and placed the lacy trimmed cups around my new breasts, and reached
behind to snap on my bra. I felt the relief immediately, and made the
minor adjustments to the bra straps to be entirely comfortable. I
liked the weight on the shoulder straps. It felt, somehow, secure to
me. I blushed to see erect nipples visible through the bra cups.

	The garter strap was also red, with shirred straps. It fit a
bit snugly over my nipped waist, but, I was glad of that. That meant
that the tugging of my nylons would not pull it down my legs. I did
the three hook-and-eyes at the small of my back.

	I sat on the bed and rolled the delicate stockings up my
hairless legs. It had been two years since I had had the pleasure of
feeling nylons on my legs. I loved it, knowing that a short while ago,
a pretty girl had taken these off her own legs, so that I could put
them on mine. I adjusted the garters a little too short, as I have
always enjoyed the taughtness that caresses my legs from tightly
suspended nylons. This was my first time in girlishly hairless legs,
and the sensuousness was nearly overwhelming. If I really were a girl,
I'd only wear nylons. The feel of the material is well worth the extra
effort to be dainty to prevent runs. I just adored the look of my slim
nyloned legs, as they were girl's legs now.

	I picked up the lovely red satin brief panties, trimmed in
frothy white lace. My penis bulged out against the ultra soft
material. I nearly swooned, knowing that only an hour before, a pretty
girl had been wearing them. They were snug. Now, they were "my"
panties. I was expected to wear them today. I lowered a matching lace-
trimmed camisole, that was on the bed, over my head, and admired the
way the satin enhanced the curvature of my new breasts. A warm feeling
came over me. I was inside the most intimate apparel of a beautiful
young girl. I looked in the mirror, and admired the way the material
draped from my breasts, hanging loosely to emphasize my cinched-in
waist. The camisole hung just low enough to hide the only boyhood
remaining to me, and I saw a girl looking back at me, in very fine
lingerie.

	I raised the khaki blouse up, noted that it buttoned up the
back and slid the sleeves up my arms, enjoying the soft material on my
skin, and reached behind to button it up. Then, I picked up those
slacks that I had admired on her earlier, and slid them up over my
nyloned legs. I relished what they felt like. I remembered how
beautiful that they had looked on Karen-Anne, and hoped, now that they
were mine, that they would look as attractive on me. I stuffed my
blouse down into my slacks, and pulled the waist together. I did up
the button. I snapped the little delicate belt about my waist.

	I went to the large mirror on the wall. It felt so fantastic
to be wearing girl's clothing, again, that I had a great deal of
difficulty in stopping myself from cumming. Just the utter
sensuousness of my panties, my two piece suit... the whole feeling
that once again seemed to bubble up from deep within my soul, of my
feelings of girlishness that I had thought that I had buried so many
years ago, overwhelmed me. I knew that if I touched the front of my
girl's slacks, that I would explode, though I had to desperately fight
with myself not to touch myself. I stepped into Karen-Anne's, "my"
heels, and, I just could no longer resist giving myself over to the
delight of being a girl again. It was not the fact so much that it was
female clothing that I was wearing, as much as it was that I was
sharing something extremely personal and intimate with a very foxy
young lady. I almost felt like I could feel her innermost secret
feelings, the "girl" feelings that make her what she is.

	I was acutely aware of every feminine stitch that adorned my
body.

	I loved it.

	I did not call for her help in this experiment. I sat at the
vanity and did my own makeup. I had not forgotten anything. My sister
had taught me well, and it was only a short time before my face looked
the way that I most wanted it to look. My hair was already long.

	Uncharacteristically not fearful about the consequences, I
combed my long hair from the sides, parted in the middle, down over my
face and took up the scissors. to cut my bangs, just above my
eyebrows. The rest, I gathered up loosely at the base of my neck and
tied with a red satin ribbon. I clipped on the earrings that she had
worn, and slid on the bracelets and her wrist watch.

	I realized that I had forgotten to pluck my eyebrows, and to
do my nails. Not wanting to leave anything undone, I took the next
fifteen minutes to do those two things. Now, I felt as girlish as I
had ever felt in my entire life. Now, I was really me. Another final
coat of lipstick, and I was ready to meet my nemesis.

	Now the moment came to reveal myself to her, in her clothes.

	I would have to confess to her that I did not enjoy wearing
her clothes, I adored it. I felt so vulnerable. Now, I would have to
reveal to her that her proposal in the library was, in actuality, a
fulfillment of my most secret and most shame causing fantasies.

	She was sitting on the couch, in the clothes that I had
removed, her hair pulled up and trapped by a tight fitting cap. She
was a very cute boy. She was cute, but she looked boyish.

	Unable to stop myself, I walked, swished, into the living
room, and was surprised to find that my wrists were limp by
themselves.

	She took one look at me.

	"You have done this before, haven't you?"

	"Yes. My Mom used to make me wear my sister's clothes as a
punishment when I was little." I blushed at the admission.

	"Yeah... but... for you... it was not punishment, was it?"

	I looked at her. "No. I... I began to prefer it."

	"Well, I wonder how we are going to put this in our term
paper. If we tell the truth, you will be very embarrassed, as it will
likely become part of the public archives in the library." She looked
at me for a long thoughtful moment.

	"Do you wish you were a real girl?"

	"No. The big turn on... is... that you are such a beautiful
and sexy girl, and that I can fit into your clothes. It is like I am
sharing something with you that no one else can."

	"I'll say... no one else ever got into my panties before, at
least, when they did, it was usually in the more traditional way."

	I blushed.

	"So, I'll bet you like wearing dresses too, don't you?"

	"Honestly?"

	"Honestly."

	"Well, I love wearing this suit, but, I can hardly wait to see
what I look like... to see what I will feel like, in one of your
dresses."

	"I believe that. You look like you are going to split out the
zipper of your slacks. Gad... I never met a fairy before... I am kind
of turned on by seeing a boy looking so very pretty, no, I guess the
word is foxy, in my own clothes, knowing that he is so turned on by
sharing such intimacy with me."

	"I can not tell you how sexy I feel... because it is your
clothing."

	"You don't have to tell me. I can see it. If you don't mind, I
would like to preserve my slacks, so, it might be a good idea for you
to wear a dress or a skirt. Would you mind?"

	"Oh, I can't wait to get into a dress... " I blushed at my
confession.

	"You know, I believe that. Do you need some help?"

	"No, I've put on my own dresses before."

	"Well, do you mind if your boyfriend watches you get dressed?"

	"You... you'd like that... uh... seeing a boy put on one of
your dresses?"

	"I am horny seeing you in my pants. I can't imagine how hot I
will be, seeing you in one of my dresses. Do you have a particular
style that you like?"

	"Well, that pale blue suit you were wearing at the library?"

	"You like that sort of thing?"

	"I thought it was gorgeous."

	"Well, it is dirty. I've worn it a couple of times and have
not had it cleaned yet."

	"Oh... that sounds just heavenly... "

	She followed me back into the room I had just emerged from.
She watched as I kicked off my heels, stepped out of my slacks and
hung the suit up on a hanger. I felt fantastic. She watched. I went to
the closet, inserted the hanger, and pulled out the suit she had been
wearing last week.

	It was a pale blue wool, with a white silk blouse that had a
high ruffled lace collar. I went to a dresser and found a half-slip
that matched the lingerie that I was wearing.

	I glanced over at Douglas. She/he was sitting there, rubbing
her crotch. She was really turned on by this event. I nearly orgasmed
right there, that such a pretty and feminine girl would be so very
turned on at seeing me wear her clothing.

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: J <J@nicholsn.demon.co.uk>
Subject: TG: Even Trade Swap [2/4]
Date: Wed, 23 Aug 1995 17:19:07 GMT

			 The Even Trade Swap
				  by
			Miss Karen-Anne Brown
			       Part Two

	I stepped into the wispy satin slip and raised it to my
cinched in waist. I slid the silk sleeves up my arms and reached
behind to button up my blouse. I raised the skirt up my silken legs,
tucked in the blouse, and did up the eye/hook in the back, then raised
the zipper to the eye/hook. It was a bit tight, though long enough to
reach to just below my knees. It emphasized my shapely hips and
cinched-in waist. I slid my arms into the blazer sleeves and adjusted
the blazer.

	When I looked at myself in this very suit that I had so
admired her in last week, I nearly came, from just the pressure of the
skirt on my panties.

	He/she came over and stood beside me, her eyes glazed.

	"I can't tell you how horny it makes me, to watch a sexy cute
boy, dress himself up in my clothes. I should make you into my wife."

	I turned to her. "You know, I would die for the chance to
marry you, if you made me be your wife, and make me wear all your
clothes, 24 hours a day."

	"Oh, from what I see, you probably would like that. If you
were my wife I would want you to make love like a woman."

	"You mean lie on the bottom all the time? I would like that."

	"No, I mean you'd have to get fucked."

	"How?"

	"Well, by me, with a rubber cock. And, by any man that I would
bring home, friends. business partners, bosses etc., If you were my
wife, you would be expected to help me advance in my career, right?"

	"I guess... so."

	"Well, you'd also have to suck their cocks."

	"Oh... "

	"You mean you are not girl enough to suck cocks?"

	"I... I, don't know."

	"Any guy that looks like you do in a two piece suit, and you
have never been with a guy? I find that hard to believe? You are just
too pretty to not be as queer as a three dollar bill."

	"I have never thought about it before."

	"Well, Karen-Anne, we should find out a few things, right
now."

	With that, he pushed me backwards. I was not able to maintain
my balance on the high heeled shoes. I stumbled backwards till I
landed on her bed. There was a mirror in the ceiling. I looked up,
entranced with the picture that I presented.

	He jumped onto me, yelling at me, accusing me of wanting her
breasts and her cunt.

	In the intensity of the moment, I agreed that I envied her for
being a beautiful girl, when I was not.

	She slithered her way down and knelt on the floor.

	I stared up at the reflection in the mirror. I saw a cute boy,
pushing up the skirt of a pretty girl. I saw my thighs being
uncovered, then my panties revealed, then, she tugged at my panty
waist and exposed me. My arms were up, a hand on each side of my head.
I was not resisting, but passively accepting anything he would want to
do to me. I remembered how my sister used to take advantage of me,
when she learned one day that, in her clothes, I was not a boy, but
that I had a girlish and docile personality.

	I was so overcome with the total feminization of my
circumstances that I nearly erupted, just from the sensuousness of my
clothes.

	I watched his head move upwards. I was seeing someone do to me
what I had secretly fantasized doing to a man. I felt her lips, warm,
moist, soft. I was the girl.

	I screamed as I exploded into her/his mouth. I could not
imagine such pleasure was available to humans. He drained me, as I
looked up and saw that my most wonderful experience happened when I
was a girl. I never wanted to wear boy's clothes again. I envied
Karen-Anne.

	Then, when I was drained, I saw his back moving upwards. In a
second, his face was over mine. I saw a mischievous glint in his eye.
He kissed me, and forced his tongue into my mouth. There was a strange
taste, too. I soon had my mouth full of cum. He sat up and looked at
me.

	"If you really want to be a girl, you have to like what girls
like. Girls like cum. They like to suck it out of cocks, and they like
to swallow it. Will you, Karen-Anne, swallow a boy's cum, like a real
girl?"

	I did. I could not help but, lick my lips too.

	"You liked eating cum, didn't you, Karen-Anne?"

	"Yes, I did... uh... Douglas."

	"Do you think that you could suck it out for yourself, from a
big rock hard dork?"

	"Well, I... I probably could... I guess... "

	"Would you like sucking it out for yourself, you sexy girl,
you?"

	I blushed profusely, as I admitted that I probably would.

	He put my cock down into my panties again, and raised up the
panty waist, pulled down my slip, then my skirt.

	"Girl, go and get us some dinner."

	"Yes, Sir."

	As I stood up, I received a very stinging slap on my be-
skirted bum. I was getting treated, I realized, as per my assumed
role.

	I loved it.

	I hung an apron over my neck and tied the apron strings at my
back. I searched the kitchen till I was familiar with what was where,
and was able to produce a half-way decent meal. Half an hour later, I
was serving sandwiches in the living room. We sat and indulged.

	"I am amazed at how willingly you agreed to my experiment,
Karen-Anne."

	"Uh... , that brings up a question. Why did you propose that
we do this? I mean, how did you know about me?"

	She smiled.

	"Well, for a start, there are not a whole lot of guys small
enough to wear a size ten petite. That was one clue. Another one was
this. I have been sharing classes with you for nearly fourteen weeks
now, and you are the only guy in the school who has not tried to get
into my pants... Hee... heee, well, at least not in the more
traditional way that guys get into girl's pants."

	I blushed, hotly, at her remarks.

	"You are so pretty when you blush... but, well, a few other
reasons. You may not be aware of it, but there are little telltale
signs about when a guy is uncomfortable around girls. You hardly ever
looked me straight in the eye, as though there were some deep dark
secret that you did not want me to know about you. I tried a few
little things and found that you would almost bend over backwards to
try and get along with me. That made me feel as though, in some way, I
could control you, and, the more I thought about it, the more that I
liked the idea. It was really turning me on. I did not get the idea of
having you dress in my clothes till about a month ago. Some of the
girls and I went to see Tootsie, and, while we were there, I found
myself wondering what kind of a girl you would make, and it made me
horny. Then, I found out where you were from, learned that you had a
sister, and I called her. I asked her if you liked wearing girl's
clothes, and she told me that she thought you should have been born a
girl, as you seemed to be far happier when you were made to wear her
clothes than at other times. She told me that she thought that you
used to deliberately get your mom mad at you, so that she would make
you dress up in Sally's clothes."

	"You did all that, just to get me into your clothing?"

	"More than just to get you into my clothes, my pretty one."

	"What then?"

	"Well, you probably gathered by now, that I am kind of lazy.
Oh, by they way, did you do all of the assignments in history,
geography and business math?"

	"Yes?"

	"Did you have any problems with them?"

	"No. Why?"

	"Because, I have not done them yet. I left them for you to do
for me."

	"They are a lot of work."

	"Good, it'll keep you busy, while you wear my clothes. I don't
want you to just sit around all day with your thumb up your ass. I
want you to pay a rental, if you will, on the use of my clothing."

	"Oh... "

	"Well, now, I'll tell you why I am interested in a man who'd
rather be a wife. I am 17 now. In eight months, I will be eighteen.
When I turn eighteen, if I am married, I will inherit a trust fund
from my grandfather's estate. If I am not married, I will have to wait
till I am 28. I don't trust men as far as I can throw them, present
company excepted. What I am afraid of is that some jerk will find out
about the trust fund, marry me, beat the shit out of me, and run of
with all of my money."

	"So, how does that involve me?"

	"Well, if you are made to wear my clothes all the time,
because that is such a big turn-on for you, you will be a very
thankful husband, right?"

	"Yes."

	"Well, you are also able to get it up like a man, so, I won't
have to run the risk of diseases. You won't be running after every
skirt around, unless it is to get them onto yourself, like the one you
are wearing now."

	I blushed again.

	"Also, I will have, unlike many women, a husband who has an
intimate understanding of me, because of his own feminine nature. The
only thing to do was to see if you were the right person."

	"That was why you proposed this experiment?"

	"Yes... It worked didn't it?"

	"Well, I am certainly enamored of the idea... "

	"There are only a few more things to work out, yet, before I
will know for certain if you are the man that I want to spend my life
with, and, share my fortune with."

	"Oh?"

	"Yes."

	"Like what?"

	"Well, for one thing, can you relate in society, as would a
normal girl?"

	"How do you plan to find that out?"

	"The first part was to see how you looked as a female, and you
have no problem in that area. In fact, you are really very cute. The
next part is to see if you are feminine in actions as well as dress.
From what I can see, you certainly are a naturally feminine person.
You do not go all swishy like the other fairies on campus. You just
act like a girl, and it seems to be natural for you. In the bedroom,
you acted more like a girl would than anything else. You certainly did
not act like a boy by any stretch of the imagination. That very much
appeals to the aggressive side of my personality."

	"Is there more?"

	"Yes. When I leave here, you will assume my life for the week,
and I will assume yours. Don't try calling me, as I am going to go to
your place, pack a suitcase, and go away for the week. I deliberately
made sure there were very few groceries, so that it will force you to
go out and buy some. You won't be able to just lock yourself away and
enjoy some perverted little fantasy. I want to know if you can relate
to others in a normal society. I've made arrangements to get you out
of the house. I also want you to know if you are able to relate in
society, as a young lady. That is very important, for your own
confidence and self esteem."

	"Anything else that I should know?"

	"Yes. A good friend of mine, Claudia, is coming over to take
you out to the movies on Monday night and bowling on Tuesday. She is
also going to spend the night with you on Thursday. She will help you
get ready for your date on Friday."

	"Date?"

	"I have to know if you can relate to men in a normal way."

	"I have to go out on a date with a guy?" I was shattered.

	"You not only will go out with him, but, he is going to spend
the night with you. I set the date up for Friday, because he will
still be here when I return a week from now, on Saturday morning. You
will really like him. He is a guy that lives in the town, not on
campus. He's a queer, and is intrigued with the idea of taking out a
girl/boy. His name is Ken, and he is a hunk, an ideal for a first
date, if you want the truth. Girls love this kind of guy, but,
unfortunately, we can't have him."

	"You want me to let him sleep here?"

	"Karen-Anne, I want you to make love to him as though you were
a real girl. Kenny will be expecting it. I hope you do not mind, but I
told him that you absolutely adored sucking cocks, and he can hardly
wait to get to know you."

	"You told him I was a cocksucker? How could you do that?" I
was absolutely floored, ashamed and burned inside, that anyone should
think that I was a fairy cocksucker. I loved to be a girl, but that
does not mean that I am a faggot, does it? Fantasies are fantasies.
Some of them are best never to be realized.

	"Listen, if you want to live the life, then learn to be the
wife. I can't marry you if you can't act like a normal wife. Kenny
will wait here on Saturday, to let me know how you did. If you do as
well as I think that you will, K-A, you will be my wife, assuming that
you still want to be my wife, after this week."

	Then, she stood up, leaned over to kiss my cheek, took my
wallet and car keys, and smiled.

	"I left a hundred dollars in your purse. That should be more
than enough for you. Goodbye, and enjoy the week, K-A."

	Then, he/she was gone. I sat, stunned, as I heard my car's
engine spark to life, heard her grind the gears in an aggravating way,
and she peeled off down the street, with a squeal of the tires.

	I was dazed. I sat as though in a trance for nearly an hour.
The phone ringing startled me back to reality.

	"Hello?"

	"It's me, Sweetbuns. I was just calling to say I am leaving
now. Bye. Oh, and, have a good week, Luv." Then it was dead.

	Suddenly, just as it had happened the first time, a warm glow
started from deep inside me, and welled up.

	I went to the full length mirror at the foot of the stairs.

	"I am a girl now," I thought to myself.

	I decided that the first thing I wanted to do, before this
fantasy dream ended, was to go back up to Karen-Anne's bedroom, and
look through her drawers and closets, and I wanted to try on every
stitch of clothing that she owned, to see what I liked and what I
wanted to wear the most.

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: J <J@nicholsn.demon.co.uk>
Subject: TG: Even Trade Swap [3/4]
Date: Wed, 23 Aug 1995 17:20:27 GMT

			 The Even-Trade Swap
				  by
			Miss Karen-Anne Brown
			      Part Three

	By seven o'clock, I knew what I looked like in every piece of
feminine clothing that was in Karen-Anne's room. I had worn them all,
from summer shorts with ruffled halter tops, to lovely ball gowns. I
loved them all. I especially loved the fact that I did not have to
wear a bra all the time, to have pretty breasts. I wore a lot of
outfits with no bra, and jumped up and down, just to watch and feel my
new tits jiggling.

	Finally, I selected a shirt-dress in a pink jersey material to
wear as a house dress. This entire wardrobe would have to be returned
to the closets and drawers. I selected a pair of loose fitting,
obviously old and well worn satin briefs, with a loose elastic waist
band, a satin slip, the shirt-dress, and pair of pink high heeled
mules, with dainty little puffs at the toes. I went back down to the
kitchen, put on the apron that I had worn earlier, and went back
upstairs to start my housecleaning. Karen-Anne certainly was a sloven
who did not keep house very well.

	Two hours later, exhausted and sweating, I looked around the
master (Mistress) bedroom. It was as clean as a whistle. All the
clothes were neatly folded away, or hanging in neat rows in the
closet. I was satisfied. K-A was a beautiful girl, and I had just worn
every single stitch of clothing that she owned. For the week, now, all
these dresses were mine. The vanity where I had feminized myself was
clean and orderly.

	I went back to the bathroom and tugged a bathing cap on, then
took another shower. I also used the last bottle of Nair, as I wanted
to be extra sure that I was a hairless as a girl should be. I picked
up the little pink BIC and shaved closer than I had ever shaved in my
life.

	Again, I soaked in a luxurious oiled and scented bath till the
water got cold. I raised myself, realizing that I was famished. I'd
eaten only with Douglas, a number of hours ago, and the conversation
was such that I was not able to eat a great deal. From the meal that I
had prepared, I knew that there was no food in the house. I would have
to go to the market. I had never been in public as a girl, well, at
least not since the age of 13.

	As I dressed, I remembered the humiliation of that experience.
I had ripped my new jeans on a barb wired fence. My mom was incensed
that I would be so careless with my new clothes, as we were very poor
and she just did not have the money to buy me new clothes. These pants
were nearly beyond repair, she told me. She decided that the only way
to really enforce the concept of carefulness in me, was to make me
experience something very humiliating that was associated with my
carelessness.

	I would have to go to the store, and buy a new pair of jeans
for myself. Only, I would have to go in one of Sally's prettiest
dresses. I had argued and screamed, all to no avail. I finally had
submitted to the petticoat discipline, and, when she drove me to the
mall, I went into the boy's clothing store and bought the new jeans. A
friend of mine was working there. He did not recognize me, and he
tried to make a date with me. I was so ultra embarrassed that I
developed an overprotective attitude towards the clothing that I did
have. Mom was very pleased with the results. She never made me go in
public again, and I never wanted to. Even when Sally had tried to talk
me into it, I had always been able to get out of it, but now I had no
choice. I was Karen-Anne for a week. She needed groceries. I had to go
and get them for her. To be entirely honest, I knew that if I was not
being forced to go out, I would not do so. I was a little appreciative
of her thoughtfulness in orchestrating this week the way that she had.
I was trapped in her life for a week. I did not even have the keys to
get back into my own apartment if I did chicken out. I was fixed but
good.

	Back in the bedroom, I put on the lovely lingerie that I had
been wearing all day. I donned a rough sweater, jeans and a pair of
sneakers. The thought occurred to me that I had to pass a a girl
anyway, so, why not be a feminine one?

	I again donned the blue suit and white silk blouse. It was
still very nippy out in the April weather, so I went down stairs and
selected a pair of high heeled snowboots in shiny black vinyl and a
three quarter length car coat that had a long ultra soft pink scarf
entwined in the shoulder straps. I checked my brown shoulder strap
purse for cash and car/house keys, and went out to the driveway.
There was a very nippy wind, and the cold air cut at the top of my
nyloned legs. It felt so nice, I was tempted to walk to the market
instead. This was the first time I had ever felt this sensation, and
again I envied girls for being able to feel like this all the time.

	I slid into the cold seat of Karen-Anne's car, enjoying the
fact that I was experiencing a discomfort that all girls feel at one
time or another, that is, my skirt riding up and letting the cold seat
make contact with my nyloned thighs. While I liked this new experience
none the less, it was most uncomfortable, and I quickly got my car
started and hoped that the heater worked well.

	Working the pedals in the high heeled boots and the
constriction of a tight skirt hem was a bit of a nuisance at first,
but I quickly was able to adjust to it, admitting to myself that I
liked driving this way better, anyway.

	In the parking lot, my heart beat wildly, and my hands shook
terribly. My breathing was shallow, and I was afraid that I was going
to hyper-ventilate. It took a will of giant reserve for me to force
open the car door and, step by painful terrified step, to walk up to
that glass door and enter the brightly lit market, where everyone
could see how I was dressed. It was noisy. For a Saturday night, I was
amazed at how many people were in there shopping. I was terrified,
and, as though I were in a dream and wading through thigh-high mud, I
forced myself to enter the market, select a grocery cart, and tried to
close myself off from the surroundings, wanting desperately to just
get out of there as soon as possible.

	It did not take me very long to begin to realize some of the
advantages of being a pretty girl. Men made way for me and seemed
quite pleased with the nervous smile I thanked them with. I tried to
concentrate on the frozen food section, the weight watchers menus,
and, soon, I found that I was making out all right. Everyone in this
market thought that I was a young lady.

	My nervousness gradually began to disappear. I was beginning
to enjoy the loud clicking of my heels that announced to anyone within
hearing range that a girl was approaching. I began to enjoy the warm
air on my nyloned knees. I began to feel confidence at the smiles I
was receiving from the young gentleman in the market. I was astounded
at some of the cold stares that the pretty girls greeted me with, the
ones who were with the young men that smiled at me.

	As I relaxed, I again became aware of little things, like the
sound and the feel of my slip on my nyloned thighs as I walked. I felt
the gentle tug of my earrings when I turned my head suddenly, or the
jangle of my bracelets when I reached out for something.

	The longer I stayed in the market, the more confident that I
was becoming in my feminine persona, and the more I was enjoying and
envying Karen-Anne for being able to dress, look and act like this all
the time. The thought actually played with my imagination of what it
might be like to be her wife. If I were her wife, I would be doing
this kind thing as a normal part of my life. It would not be an
exceptional thing for me to wear pretty clothes and go to the market.

	I smiled sweetly at the cute highschool boy who rang up my
purchases, and was pleased to see his flustered reaction. I was
beginning to learn how to relate to the world from the perspective of
being a cute persona, and, quite frankly, I liked having such an
effect on males. Always, before, my small stature had kept me in a
constant state of competition, always on edge, because I knew that I
was suspected of being an effeminate, and I had to prove I was not,
even if I was.

	Now, however, those very traits that had kept me on the verge
of trouble before, were the things that gave me a nice edge when
dealing with guys who did not know me. I was discovering the power
that women had always influenced my life with, from the other side of
the coin. I liked the feeling of being able to keep guys unsure of
themselves. I winked at this highschool boy and was rewarded with a
very very red blush. He was almost pretty. I could not help but wonder
if his mother, too, made him wear dresses at home.

	Filled with confidence, knowing now that no one suspected that
I was a boy, I was almost gay as I picked up the two armloads of my
groceries and headed for my car. In the bright lighting of the store,
I noticed for the first time the coloring of the automobile. It was
white, with a wide pink stripe on the sides, that looked like an
unfurling ribbon. It was very girlish. I liked it.

	Feeling brave, I decided not to go home right away, but to go
to a restaurant and have a sandwich. It took a lot of guts for me to
walk into that diner, shrug off my coat, and order a chicken salad
sandwich with an orange soda. Believe me, I was acutely aware of any
eye that turned my way. Mostly the eyes that did turn my way were
looking at my knees and my breasts. A couple of guys winked and
snorted at me, but I just pretended that they were not there. I needed
something to do while I was awaiting my order, something to keep my
hands busy and to keep others thinking that I was busily engaged in
something important. I decided to search through my purse, and see
what was in there.

	Many tissues, loose change, almost three dollars, bobby pins,
a cheque book, some letters addressed to Karen-Anne, which i read, as
they were addressed to me. There was nothing significant, just mostly
an exchange of gossip and family news about people that I did not
know...

	One of the letters was unopened, and addressed to "The New K-
A".

	Before I opened that, knowing that it really was for me, I
searched through my new wallet and found pictures of friends, some
with rather intimate notes scribbled on their backs. I found some more
money hidden in a secrecy pocket, my identifications, insurance cards
and a credit card. Maybe I would buy a new dress tomorrow, with that,
I mused. I also found my car ownerships and insurance papers with my
license.

	When my meal came, the waitress treated me just like any other
customer. To her, I was just one more prospective tip and a reason for
having a job. But, too, to her, I was a girl just like thousands of
others that she had served, perhaps at this very table.

	I opened my letter.

	My Dearest Karen-Anne:

	I do not know where you are right now, but I do
	know this. You are wearing sexy feminine
	clothes, and you are rooting, just like any
	other girl, through your purse. I hope that you
	had enough guts to go outside, maybe to a
	restaurant or something, and that you are
	wearing a dress or skirt. If I were you, knowing
	what I know of you, you probably should not wear
	pants at all.

	I have enclosed a few things. One, there is a
	picture of Kenny. I am sure that you are
	feminine enough to agree that he is one hunky
	dude.

	I opened the envelope and saw a very handsome man with curly
blond hair smiling out at me. He was very muscular, and I could barely
notice a bulge in his tight jeans. I shivered, knowing that this man
thought that I was a fairy. He was in his thirties, probably twice my
age.

	Then, uncharacteristically, suddenly, the thought that someone
might think that I was a fairy did not seem to matter anymore. The
fact is, I was dressed as a fairy dresses. I was looking at a picture
of a man whose cock I was expected to suck, and whose body I was
expected to bring into my bed. That is what a fairy does, and I felt a
lot of apprehension, but I knew that I was probably going to do this
thing. I sighed at the horror (Tee... Hee) of my situation, a young
lass in circumstances beyond my control, and returned to my letter.

	The other thing is a package of rubbers. Put
	them on him before you suck his cock or before
	you let him fuck you, if that is what you will
	let him do. This is just sisterly advice, as,
	with this whole AIDS thing, I want you to be a
	safe and healthy girl. I do plan on some
	intimate things of my own with you, you should
	know, and I want you be a healthy girl.

	I also wrote a poem for you, Sweetbuns:

			   Panty Boy

		  Here I sit, in near disgrace
		 I am a boy, with made up face.

	       Not only that, but `tis also true,
	       On my feet are high heeled shoes.

		  And I must, I also confess,
		I do prefer to wear this dress.

	       She made me, through a situation,
		 Agree to be be her imitation.

	       And now I know, my fate, my life,
		Becoming Karen-Anne's one wife.

		I resign myself, this day hence,
		 To give myself to circumstance

	       Of womanly life and womanly dress,
		My deepest truth, I do confess,

		    Karen-Anne, I now agree,
		    For you I will be a she.

	     For you, my love, my one true friend,
		I yield my life for you to bend,

	      Bend me and mold me, do as you will.
	     Keep me in dresses, and, my life will

		   Be unto you a work of art,
	     Your wife be I, till death do we part.

		  Signed by your pretty lover,
			your panty boy.

	Well, I had to admit, I loved the content. With my face
flushing, I went to the cash register to pay my bill and left. I knew
now that I could easily pass and that anyone who saw me thought I was
a girl, just exactly what I appeared to be.

	By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I quickly doffed my
clothing, slipped a floor length satin gown down over my head, wrapped
a beautifully diaphanous peignoir about myself, and selected high
heeled mules I wanted to wear, a bottle of white wine, then sat in
front of the television, where I fell asleep and dreamed of my fateful
date with Kenny. I could not remember what I did in my dream, but I
awoke with a warm glow at the thought of him.

	Sunday was a lazy day. I did not even get dressed, but stayed
in my night clothes. I had loved the luxurious feeling of satin
caressing my thighs as I walked about the house, in a half dream like
state, still not really believing the good fortune that had befallen
me. This was like heaven.

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: J <J@nicholsn.demon.co.uk>
Subject: TG: Even Trade Swap [4/4]
Date: Wed, 23 Aug 1995 17:21:43 GMT

			 The Even Trade Swap
				  by
			Miss Karen-Anne Brown
			      Part Four

	Monday, I dressed in a work shirt, a mid-calf length denim
skirt, some wedgies, but I wore delicate lingerie and nylons, and then
donned an apron and set about to clean Karen-Anne's house. I worked
hard, and by three pm the house was in perfect order, laundry done and
ironed, dishes washed and dried, all the rooms cleaned up, and all the
beds were made.

	I rewarded myself with another Nair treatment, as I had
replaced the bottles I had already used. I did not need it, I just
liked doing it, it was such a womanly thing to do. A hot soak in a
delicately scented tub, while reading some articles in MS Magazine,
and I was feeling on top of the world.

	Claudia called and told me that she was sick, and would not be
able to come. I knew she was fibbing, because I could hear her
boyfriend breathing in her ear, but I figured that that was just a
normal occurrence for girls.

	I had a lot to do yet. I still had Karen-Anne's homework
assignments to do. I put on a pair of cutoff pink corduroy jeans, that
she had made shorts out of, a pale blue long sleeved mohair sweater,
no bra, and bikini panties, and of course my tightly laced waist
nipper, some brightly colored kneesocks with little dancing girl
designs all over them, and a pair of penny loafers.

	I had to admit, even in such casual dress, I was a hot looking
little fox. I loved just wearing ordinary everyday clothing that a
normal girl would wear. I liked the way these shorts emphasized the
roundness of my bum cheeks. I just brushed my hair straight out,
letting it fall naturally from the center of my head, glad that I had
cut my bangs. I knew I would have trouble hiding or explaining the
very girlish hair cut later on, but it was worth it, to be so
naturally girlish now.

	I plowed into the homework. If I had been able to get to my
own apartment, I would have just gotten my books and copied the
assignments. As it was, I could barely remember the work, and had to
do all of the study and research all over again. I got through the
business math and half of the geography. The rest, I would do
tomorrow.

	I slipped into a pair of baby-doll pajamas and lay on the
couch. While watching Bosom Buddies, a sitcom about boys living as
girls, I brought myself to a lovely orgasm, enhanced by the fact that
I had been a girl for three whole days. I was ashamed to admit that,
half way through my little fantasy, I thought of that hunk, Kenny.

	The thought of going out with a guy terrified me. What would I
wear? How would I act? Would I really suck his cock? What if he wanted
to fuck me? A guy that muscular could do anything he wanted to a
little guy like me, and where would I get help from? Would the police
help. They would probably think the little fairy deserved whatever she
got, and leave it at that.

	I had a fitful night of nightmares about how I was turning
into a queer girl.

	Tuesday was also filled with work. I managed to get her
assignments done for her. Then, I cleaned the attic and the basement.
I just got such a charge out of doing normal housework in feminine
attire.

	I had just gotten cleaned up, donned a pullover of white wool,
and a plaid pleated skirt, nylons, the ever present sexy lingerie, and
stepped into my heels, when the doorbell rang. My heart leapt into my
throat. I was not expecting anyone. I knew that I looked and felt like
a girl, but now someone wanted into this house.

	Scared, nervous as a little kitten, I went down the stairs and
went to the door.

	"Hey... Karen-Anne?"

	A girl about 18 or so, with thick black hair tied up at the
back in a bun, kind of cute, looked at me.

	"Sheeeet, girl, no one... no one would ever believe you are a
guy."

	"Uh... who are you?"

	"I'm Claudia... you remember?"

	"Oh... yes, I forgot. I've been so busy... I just forgot."

	"Yes... I can see... God, if every guy works like this when he
is in skirts, maybe we women should rule the bastards after all." She
looked around at the house. "I have never seen this place so clean. I
have to hand it to K-A, she sure knew what she was doing when she got
her little mitts on you, Girl." I could hear the sincerity in her
voice.

	Nervously, I offered her some wine and then made some dinner
for the two of us. Claudia insisted that we go out together, to a
nightclub. I tried to talk her out of it, but she would hear no
excuses.

	Two hours after she had shown up at the door, we were sipping
cocktails in a popular pub frequented by the college kids. Because
most of them were away for the easter week break, there were not a lot
of people in the bar. There were, however, two single guys, who eyed
two single girls. I tried to get them to leave, but Claudia wanted
them to stay, and she invited them to sit. They plied us with drinks,
trying, I suppose, to take advantage of us, but we were careful to not
get too loose with these jocks.

	They were on the college hockey team and were very
disappointed that we did not know them or their reputations.

	I danced my first dance with a guy. He was strong, and did not
seem to be too considerate of a more fragile being like me. He kept
squeezing my arms or my back till it almost hurt. I finally tried to
get him to leave me alone with a girl trick.

	"Gad, Roger... you do not know your own strength... "

	"Why?" He looked interested, but I could also see his ego out
to be stroked. I was a girl, after all, so why not stroke it? That is
how girls keep guys interested in them right?

	I stroked my arms. "You are squeezing me so tightly that you
can hurt a fragile little girl like me."

	That did it. I got my point across, and he was immediately
penitent and solicitous of my well being. He did become more gentle,
excepting when he wanted me to know how much I turned him on. Then,
when he wrapped his big arms around me, he would pull me in close to
him, so that I could feel his massive cock grinding into my belly. I
almost did not like it.

	I could see that Claudia was having a great time with Richard,
Roger's teammate. She was not resisting like I was, when he pressed
his mouth to hers. I ducked away from Roger. When he finally asked me
if there was a reason I was not responding to his kisses, I told him
that I already had a boyfriend and that I did not feel right kissing
one guy when I was going with another.

	"After all, would you want your girlfriend to be kissing any
guy that just decided to come onto her?"

	Sullenly, he agreed and lost interest in me, when he found out
that I was not going to take him home with me.

	Claudia went home with me, instead of dropping me off. I went
upstairs to get into a nightdress. When I came down, Claudia was lying
on the couch, looking at me, her legs wide open, and her hand was
gently massaging her crotch.

	She was wearing a peasant blouse in white and red jersey, and
a pair of red ski pants, the kind with an elastic waist and the crease
sewn into them. I could see she also had on white bobby socks and
penny loafers.

	I could not help it. The sight of her lying there like that
made an immediate tent in my satin robe. She noticed it.

	"I was beginning to wonder if you really were a guy, or if old
K-A was just jerking me around or something. Do you have any idea of
how sexy a little girl/boy like you is?"

	"No... I... "

	"Ssshhhh... " She kissed me, driving her tongue far into my
mouth. It was a good twenty minutes before I could breathe cleanly
again. Claudia was all over me. Her hand touched every conceivable
part of my body, continually returning back to my besatined cock.
Then she stood up and slowly took off her clothes. She was wearing the
darkest black lace panties that I had ever seen. They were so black,
they shimmered in the flickering fireplace glow that warmly bathed the
walls. Her bra was a delightful match for her panties. Soon she stood
before me in only her bra and panties. She was a gorgeous lady.

	She let her delicate panties slide with a whisper down her
legs. She then lay on the floor, her legs as wide open as she could
get them, facing me.

	"Come, my pretty cunt-boy. Show me how you eat out a girl."

	I was astounded. I did not know that girls did things like
this.

	"Uh... I never did this before... uh... I don't know what to
do."

	"Well, boy-chick, lie down with your mouth right here and kiss
it. You will know what to do, by nature. Any guy as feminine as you
are, has just got to know what pleases a lady."

	I lay on the floor, feeling privileged to be allowed to be so
close to a real girl. I knew that she would not be doing this if I
were not half a girl myself. I was honored, and, in a very very short
time, Claudia was rolling around and screaming as my teeth nibbled at
her and my tongue poked at a little hard nub that I found inside her.

	When she orgasmed, I thought the neighbors would hear her
screams. I resented the fact that I could be as ladylike as I could
possibly be, but I would never be able to feel something like that. I
would never have such a delicate and lovely smell in my crotch. This
was real femininity, and I envied her for it.

	Claudia cuddled me in her arms, mothering me, as she recovered
her strength. I felt loved for being a feminine person. Her hands were
constantly caressing my girlified form. Finally, she opened up my
satin nightdress, and went down to suck at me. When she got me very
wet, she rolled onto her tummy and asked me to fuck her bum. I had
thought that only queers did that to each other. Here was a womanly
woman, and, I knew how womanly she was, asking me to do to her, what
Karen-Anne expected me to let Kenny do to me.

	Spreading my satin nightdress out over us, I slowly entered
her. I had expected her to moan out and cry with the pain. Instead,
she moaned and pushed her bum up at me. She was loving it. Maybe I
would too, who knew? I quickly chastised myself for even thinking such
a thought. I was a boy, after all. A rather mocking voice echoed back
to me... "Oh yeah... go tell it to the judge... "

	My voice was right. I was no longer a boy. I did not even want
to be one, let alone defend some male pride that might have once been
in my makeup. It was not there now.

	Finally, Friday night arrived. Claudia told me to dress up for
a nice dining dancing date. She told me that Kenny was rich and had
lots of class.

	I wore a shimmering blue silk dress that was gathered at my
left hip in a big rosebud, falling to a hem at the back of my right
knee. My measurements were 371/2-28-38. Claudia had laced my corsetry
up so tightly that I could hardly breathe. I knew that unless someone
helped me to remove it, it was on for good.

	I was perched on four inch heeled blue satin slippers, with
dainty little ankle straps. About my neck was a blue velvet choker,
with a flashy little diamond suspended from it. Claudia had insisted
on piercing my ears and had inserted diamond drop earrings. She had
given me a perm and had my hair piled high up on my head, my bangs
sweeping off the left temple. From the pile of hair trailed blue satin
ribbons down to my ears and shoulders. The shoulders were naked.

	I felt so delicately exposed and vulnerable.

	When she heard Kenny's car in the drive, she kissed me for
good luck and patted my silk skirted bum. I held my arms out and she
raised a white three quarter-length fur up my arms, helped me with my
gloves, and gave me a clutch purse.

	This was the moment of truth. I was at last dressed to kill
and ready for my first date as a girl, with a real man, one who was
told that I loved sucking cocks. I blushed when he began to eye me
appreciatively.

	"Man oh man. I have seen some beautiful queens, but, Karen-
Anne, you are a sight of feminine loveliness. Every man in this city
will envy me for being out with such a lovely girl as you."

	Well, I admitted to myself, he surely knew how to make a
favorable impression. I almost welcomed his arm around me as he led me
to his car. He held me tightly so that I would not fall, on such
delicate heels, on rough pavement, at least, that is what he told me.

	I let myself be guided by the muscle I felt in his arm.

	In the car, Kenny kept up a stream of praises for me, about
how lovely and delicate I was. He told me that I could always come and
be his wife, and he would be very willing to have me.

	I could not help but feel flattered.

	The silks and satins were also making me very uncomfortable in
the groin area, at least that is what I told myself.

	Kenny took me to a nightclub with candles on the tables, soft
music and a floor show of comedians. I knew he was wanting to get into
my pants. I also knew that he thought I was a good cocksucker. He
treated me like a queen. He kept up a steady stream of interesting
conversation, kept my glass full of wine, and made me feel like a
princess when he glided me about the dance floor.

	Before I even realized it, he looked at his watch and told me
that it was two am. He told me that I was one of the most delightful
dates that he had ever had, and wanted to know if I felt the same way.
I put my hand on his wrist and told him that he had made me feel like
a princess.

	He turned his arm over, captured my hand, and raised it to his
lips. I nearly died from the pain in my constricting silk panties.
Then, staring in my eyes, he began to nibble at my fingers, taking one
at a time into his mouth.

	"Uh... Kenny... "

	"Yes, my pretty butterfly?'

	"Would you... uh... like to come to my place... uh, for a
nightcap?"

	"You could not keep me away, you beautiful little china doll."

	My head was filled with the wonder of it, as we drove home. I
had invited him to come home with me.

	I served some wine. Claudia had left, but,, she had stoked up
a beautiful and romantic fire before she left. I felt as though I were
ensnared in a trap, that everyone wanted to get me to be a queer with
this man, and,, I was unable to help myself. I wanted to feel his
lips.

	I went over to the stereo,, and put on an easy listening
station. When I turned around, Kenny was staring at me. I went over
and stood in front of him, between his widespread knees. He sat like a
man with a pain in his crotch. I knew that I had put it there for him.
His left hand reached out and gently held my right hand by the
fingertips. His right hand, slowly, as though in a dream moved to his
crotch and began to rub. I could see the bulge grow slightly.

	"You like what you see, pretty Baby?"

	All I could do was to nod, dumbly.

	"Well, then, why don't you take a much closer look, if you
like it so much?"

	I very slowly sank to my knees, arranging my skirt as I went
down, flaring it out around me. I felt like a porcelain doll. He
waited. I looked at his kind eyes, then slowly took my right hand from
his fingertips and moved it to the bulge in his pants.

	This felt so very very strange, seeing myself touching a man's
cock. But it also felt, somehow, strangely natural, too.

	I traced the zipper with my lacquered fingernails, then felt
the heat right through the materials of his pants. I wanted to see it.
Being careful to not break a nail, I grasped the zipper in the pads of
my fingertips and slowly brought it downwards, towards me.

	I then pulled at his belt and soon had his pants opened up. He
raised his bum off the couch and let me pull the clothing down to his
ankles. It seemed huge.

	"Wow... "

	"What's wow, K-A?"

	I looked up at him. "I've never seen one this big before."

	A smile spread across his face. "Well, why don't you let it
know how much you appreciate it, then?"

	I knew what he meant. I grasped that shaft in both my hands,
which looked small around it, and, almost as though I were drawn by
something beyond my ability to stop it, lowered my head, and gently,
adoringly, I began to kiss it. I noted the traces of my lipstick on
the ugly fascinating purple head. I licked it, and pushed at my head
till I had the head inside of my mouth, where I proceeded to give it a
severe tongue lashing.

	Then I sucked it.

	I slobbered all over it, sucking, licking and kissing it. I
was enjoying doing this, because I was a girl, making love to her
boyfriend.

	Kenny just lay back and let me suck his cock in whatever way I
wanted to. He moaned and encouraged me, telling me what a wonderful
blow-job I was giving him, and what a fantastic cocksucker I was. I
hardly heard it. I was so caught up in the joys of making love to this
huge tool of my boyfriend.

	When he began to grunt and stiffen even more, I pulled back so
that just the head was in my mouth, and my tongue was still able to
lick at his underside.

	Then came the hot stream of my reward. I felt so absolutely
girlish, kneeling there, sucking the juice out of this man. Gob after
gob in a seeming unending stream, my mouth filled almost as fast as I
could take the lovely thick cum down my throat.

	Well, suffice it to say, I did not return to college. Karen-
Anne felt there was no need for me to be educated. I yielded to her
wishes. We were married two months later, in a quiet ceremony, with
only witnesses invited. The Justice of the Peace did not even realize
that his bride was the groom and his groom was the bride. In order to
keep it completely legal, I signed in the groom's place and she signed
in the bride's place, but it was I who rustled about in the white
wedding gown. It was the last time that I have ever used my legal
name.

	That was three years ago, and we are happily married. K-A
often wears dresses as she is and enjoys being a sexy lady. The
closest thing that I come to wearing pants is a floral designed silk
hostess gown.

	K-A likes to have real men on occasion. She has no secrets
from me, and she brings them home, and delights in telling them that I
am her husband, usually, when I am kneeling in front of them, with
such a mouthful that I cannot argue with her.

	I feel like a princess.

			 The End Of Beginning